To combat the damp, dreary winter months, Alex James recommends
stepping into the warmth.

When March and April mope on, wet and cold, it’s miserable. But I’m happy to take whatever weather the world can sling at me in February. The more extreme, the better.

This week it’s been cold enough to burst pipes. Even when it snowed, it was still the cold that everyone was talking about; so cold that with the thermostats turned up to maximum it was still shivery in the house unless we sat by the fire.

Warming up is such an exquisite pleasure. The best 200 quid I’ve ever spent was on a sauna heater. I stuck it in one of the sheds, in an old loo, in fact. It cost less than a television and it has changed my life.

In Finland they give birth in saunas. In Iceland they occur naturally – they just stick a B & Q-type hut on top of any serviceable geyser.

In Germany they love a sauna party and have a strict no pants rule – underwear etiquette varies from nation to nation.

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Here, saunas suffer a bit from fondue syndrome, being perceived as middle class, suburban and dated. But everyone in Britain should have a sauna to get them through winter. It saves a fortune on heating bills; they give you a warm glow that lasts for hours. Forget steam. You want heat. I like it around 100C (212F) inside.

It is magnificent to look through the window at the snowflakes falling, then walk out and lie down naked on a bed of snow at -10C (14F). I stare up at the stars in perfect silence, stripped bare: alone under the skeleton of a birch, the mist of my breath billowing at the infinite, tiny peaks of daffodils poking through the grass under the light of the moon.